Irritably Similar
by TheFabulousPrussia
Summary: Gilbert hadn't noticed Lovino before, so why was it that now he was? He was understanding him more, and maybe more than he would like. Maybe they were just irritably similar. Prumano, bits of Gerita, maybe others. Rated for Roma's mouth, may change later.
1. Weapon of Choice

**AN: First public fanfiction, if I screwwed up, tell me flat out, I can handle it.**

**I write a lot for these two, but I never publish anything, mostly because others include Spain's love with a barstool named Seatito that works as a door to door stripper and is payed in Trident layers that taste like churros and tomatoes. **

**This one will be much more realistic, no worries. It's just a short starter chapter that I wanted to throw out there to get it going, see if anyone wants to read more.**

**So here we go!**

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><p>It was a generally sunny morning all across Germany, a perfect day for a World Meeting to take place in Berlin. Ludwig was leading the meeting of course, well, any minute that he wasn't raising his voice to a level that would match the obnoxious voice of the self proclaimed 'hero' who thought he owned the world. That wasn't unusual. What was unusual was the equally obnoxious Prussian sitting to Ludwig's left. Why had he allowed him to come again?<p>

_"Please West? Please? I'm even saying 'please'!" Gilbert whined, tugging on his little brother's sleeve like a child. He had an unruly pout on his face as he did so, it took all of the German's willpower not to give into it. That was how Gilbert got everything, how he got permission to go out and drink himself into a stupor, then come home in a bang at who knows when in the morning. It was how he had convinced Germany to let him get a puppy, they already had a dog, a very large dog. However his older brother, of course, had explained, in a very long speech, how having a little dog would give him more responsibility, because he would have to be careful not to lose it in the pig sty he called a bedroom. That along with the pout had convinced him to get the small dog, a Pomeranian, that was promptly named Eisen. Speak of the devil, there was the little dog now, giving a bark up at Gilbert to remind him that he would like a better chew toy than the one with no stuffing at his paws. Oh that was right, he was listening to Prussia list off reasons why he should attend the meeting today, Ludwig must have been distracted with his thoughts again.. _

_"If you keep quiet-" he started, but was interrupted by an excited voice._

_"I'll behave! Honest!" Germany could've sworn he heard him mutter a 'not', but he let it go, it wasn't like anything was accomplished at meetings anyway. Any hope of getting anything done was out of the window when America was going to be there. Or France. Or England. Or the North half of Italy. Or the Southern. Or really anyone. _

And now Ludwig wondered if it were really that good of an idea to allow his brother to attend.

"So I was thinking, about this whole Global Warming thing, I think that if we genetically create a huge superhero with a freezing cold ray gun, brr, that would freeze up the north pole again, everything will be fine!" Alfred stated, pointing happily at the chalkboard where he had drawn a fairly bad representation of his idea.

"Woah, woah, woah, hold on," Apparently, the box of Berliner that Ludwig had bought to shut Gilbert up for the meeting hadn't worked. "Why a ray _gun_? It would be so much more awesome if he had a ray _sword_. Guns are for cowards!" he announced, quite disguisted with the idea of fighting from a distance. Close contact was a much better, and more honorable fight.

"Dude, I don't know what you're talking about, guns are the bomb!"

"Bombs? I like bombs."

"No one asked you Commie!"

"Russia is able to speak, da?"

"The wanker is just being a git again. A large 'hero' would not solve our problems!"

"You 'ave a better idea, Angleterre?"

"Any idea is better than that! And keep your hands to your bloody self, frog!"

The irritation was starting, Ludwig gave it about ten seconds before he would flip the table and demand everyone take a break. That was of course, before the elder of the Italian brothers stood and started his stream of insults. That made everyone shut up. Lovino wasn't one to say much of anything during meetings. He was more of the 'silently plan the death of everyone in the room' type of guy. He let his younger brother deal with the official details of their country.

Even the chattering of the arrogant American and the proud Prussian had ceased. That impressed Germany, though he would never admit to it, or it may result in something similar to that of the mustache incident.

Prussia couldn't believe that the Italian had enough balls to talk to nations much more powerful than him like that. Was that really the same Romano that Spain had control of all those years ago?

"Lovi, there's no need to be mean." Antonio pouted next to him, patting him on the back as he turned to tell him just what he thought about the 'tomato bastard that spends more time running a cafe than looking for his lost brain'. That firecracker was definitely the same one that he'd seen before when he would stay with Antonio. Apparently Tomato Bastard was a name that he embraced, because he made no comment toward it.

"If we're all done yelling at each other, I suggest a break so that we aren't blowing each other's heads off when we resume the meeting." Ludwig gave a wary glance at Vash, because he always had a gun on him _somewhere_. All of the countries muttered an agreement and rose from their seats, Prussia included. The reason he came in the first place was to see Antonio and Francis, they had been working diligently lately, so he wasn't able to see them as much as he would have liked. He escaped over to his friends before Ludwig could turn and scold him for starting the whole mess, even though it was obviously Alfred's fault.


	2. Grumpasaurus and Building Love

**Alright, second chapter. Is anyone else excited?**

**And maybe lacking sleep? ****Might be just me.**

**Anyway, I feel that my chapters are short, only 900 or so words, should I make them longer? I probably could have finished the meeting with this one, but I'm not too sure. I'll probably have longer chapters in the future, long chapters make me happy.**

**Please give me reviews? I like criticism, I would much rather have someone flat out tell me that I have mistakes than have mistakes be overlooked and continue to make them. **

**Thank you to all that read my story/review/watch it. It really means a whole lot to me!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, everyone knows that.**

**-TFP**

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><p>It wasn't seconds after Gilbert had marched himself over to Antonio that he was being reamed out by an obviously annoyed Italian, complaining about a headache caused by the arrogance and idiocy of everyone in the world. Gosh did he know how to over exaggerate.<p>

"Lovi, would a churro make it better?" Antonio supplied, hoping to be in the least bit helpful to the terrible mood that Lovino seemed to live in. Gilbert really couldn't understand how the Spaniard put up with the brat. He was never that annoying and loud-mouthed, or, that was how he saw it. His brother on the other hand, might have a better opinion on just how annoying he could be.

"You can shove your damn churro up your ass, bastard!" Lovino fumed. Either Prussia's mind was playing tricks on him, or he was even more upset than normal. "Go have fun with your fucking friends, I'm going to see if I can find anything edible in this idiotic, bland country!" and with that and a final huff, he was gone, leaving two sets of eyes staring after him with questioning gazes. The third party in their trio of bad touches arrived a little afterward.

"Alright, who pissed in his cornflakes, because it wasn't me this time..." Gilbert asked, looking to his Spanish friend.

"I don't know what's gotten into him, he's been upset like this since we got here." he sighed, watching as Lovino turned a corner, complaining about how drab and boring the hallway was.

"Maybe it's just Germany." Francis gave a dismissive shrug, "Who really cares? He's normally in a bad mood anyway."

And they shouldn't have cared, it wasn't their problem that the Grumpasaurus had come out of his cavern and begun growling at everything in sight. Besides, all it could do was growl, he was all bark and no bite. The amusing thought of Lovino as a dinosaur caused Gilbert to snicker, earning him curious glances from his friends, but he waved them off. He seemed to shrug everything off that bothered him, but something about the older Italian brother just rubbed him the wrong way, and he couldn't shake the feeling. It was like that annoying feeling of forgetting something, but not remembering what it was, only, he wasn't forgetting anything, he was sure of it. It would come to him later, he decided, turning back into his grinning self, "So, who's up for some lunch? I know an awesome place only a block from here!"

That seemed to be enough persuasion for the trio to exit and find something to eat, they were used to German food by now. Even Francis, the master of the culinary arts, didn't complain when they ate together, one could say that they're palates had become somewhat similar, even if their foods were drastically different.

**+++++xx+xx+++++**

Why, damn it, why did he even come to Germany in the first place? He knew that it would just put him in a sour mood, one worse than if he had spent the week home alone. Sure, he would have been lonely, but at least the food would have been far better, even if it was reheated pasta.

Now that he was here, there was no turning back. He was already fed up, and it was only day two in this wretched country. A disgruntled grumble of distaste left his mouth and bounced back from his coffee, which wasn't even good coffee. Nothing like home.

Gazing out at the city in the midday sunlight, he had to admit to himself that it was actually kind of pretty. Though, he always had a soft spot for architecture. He was pleased to see some of Grandpa Rome's structures still standing proudly on the German land. Maybe he would sneak away at some time this week to see a few sights, just maybe, but of course, he would have to go in disguise, he would /not/ be caught strolling around in any part of this country. Especially not if he were smiling at the breathtaking sights. That was simply absurd. A good mustache would do the trick nicely.

He was pulled from the day dreaming of the wonderful way the history was making him feel by the notion that his coffee cup was empty, not to mention the annoying little beeping of his watch to remind him to get back to the meeting. Back into a room filled with countries of varying power and attitudes, mostly idiots. Scratch that. All of them were idiots. He really didn't want to go back and deal with them.

He would just let Feliciano do it. It was a simple enough job, sitting and listening, chirping in with whatever he felt the need to say, simple enough for Feli to handle on his own.

Oh, who was he kidding? The younger Italian couldn't tie his own shoes, when he did, it ended in a knot that took Lovino an hour to get out. Though it probably only took so long because he was easily frustrated when he made the knot worse.

It was settled then, he had to attend the rest of the meeting. He sighed as he stood, tossing his coffee cup into the trash can on the way out the door. Maybe he should have gotten another coffee, just in case someone needed a good scalding beverage to the lap. The Spanish bastard could probably use one, just for being so chipper and annoying. He and the younger of the Italian brothers could go be happy in a corner, far, far, far away from where Lovino could sit and think about the cleverly planned demise of everyone in the room. That would be nice. Of course, that was exactly not what would, or even could happen.


End file.
